


Breath of Paradise

by BooknerdMiss



Series: Criminal Minds Kink Meme Responses [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: (But a bad one), Alcohol, Because there isn't any, Don't read it for the sex, Handcuffs, It doesn't work this way, Junk!Science, Kidnapping, M/M, No Spoilers, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Reid needs to stop getting in trouble, Strangulation, Which disappoints me, case!fic, unanswered questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooknerdMiss/pseuds/BooknerdMiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team gets called to help with a case where the UNSUB strangles and dumps young men in public places. And, as usual, trouble finds Dr. Spencer Reid. </p><p>Inspired by a Criminal Minds Kink Meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath of Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick little thing based off of this prompt over at the CM Kink Meme: 
> 
>  
> 
> _Hotch/Reid, Aphrodisiac._
> 
>  
> 
> _Reid is given some kind of aphrodisiac concoction by an unsub who wants him willing and horny, but when the team rescue him in the nick of time, it falls to Hotch to handle a minxy, pliant, and incredibly sexy Reid. Hotch had never even really looked at him that way before, but damn when Reid is all up in his lap, can his willpower hold out?_
> 
>  
> 
> It took a completely different turn and ended up 30 pages long with a Morgan/Reid pairing instead. OH WELL.

**Breath of Paradise**

Hot breath mingled together as they kissed, lips pressed roughly against each other and sliding slickly together.

_“I had them, but I’ve lost sight of them! I don’t know which way they went!”_

Muffled whimpers escaped the taller of the two, short gasps of air echoing in the otherwise silent room when their lips broke contact for brief seconds. 

_“What do you mean you’ve lost them!? You were supposed to be keeping a close eye on them!”_

The two struggled out of their clothing; shirts lifted off and discarded carelessly, while shoes and pants lay in puddles on the floor as the two stumbled their way into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them.

_“Don’t you think I know that?! If we don’t find the car - !”_

_“DON’T think like that! We’ll find it!”_

_“JJ . . .”_

_“We WILL. We have to . . .”_

_“I see them!”_

_“Talk to us, Garcia. Where are we going?”_

_“Take the next left!”_

They tumbled onto the bed, springs groaning in protest at the sudden weight thrown upon it. Desperate hands ran over firm muscles underneath soft skin, fingernails dragging down white flesh and leaving behind harsh, red lines. 

_“They’re been out of sight for too long.”_

_“I’ve got them, don’t panic.”_

_“Garcia - ,”_

_“Morgan, I’ve GOT them! You have to stay calm because if you don’t stay calm I won’t stay calm and I need to be calm right now.”_

_“Focus! Which way are they going now, Garcia?”_

_“Yes, yeah. You’re right, Hotch. Sorry. Keep going straight.”_

He pulled away from the taller one, which caused more of those delectable whimpers to escape kiss swollen lips. “Shh,” he cooed, straddling the lithe body underneath him. Huge eyes stared up at him, the hazel irises completely swallowed by the pupils. He smiled slowly, reaching out and trailing gentle fingertips across a flushed cheek for a brief moment, before reaching towards the bedside table and pulling open the drawer. 

Reaching inside, he pulled out a pair of sturdy, silver handcuffs. The jangling sound they made mixed with the heavy breathing of his lover in a tantalizing soundtrack. “I think you’d look beautiful in these, don’t you, Spencer?” 

_“Baby Girl, we’re blind here, we need you.”_

_“I know, I know, but . . . they’ve turned into a residential area. There aren’t any stoplights for me to hack into the cameras to follow them with.”_

_“Give us the neighborhood, Garcia.”_

As soon as the cuffs clicked onto Spencer’s wrists, their lips reattached. Their kisses were frantic as they devoured each other and their bodies rocked together, arousal wrapped tightly around them. 

His hands slid up Spencer’s lightly defined chest, smooth palms gliding across flushed skin. He pulled his lips away with a wet smack, watching as the man at his mercy moaned at the teasing touch and tilted his head back, beautiful neck arched in pleasure. 

“So gorgeous,” he whispered, smoothing his fingers across the Adam’s apple that was on display. “I think you may be perfect. The one that I’ve been searching for all this time.” His hands cupped the back of his lover’s head, sliding through the thick, soft curls before gliding down to cradle his neck. 

Spencer raised his head, his eyes locking with the dark blue gaze of the man on top of him. Straight, white teeth shone between red lips as he smiled down at the man he was touching. “Yes,” he said, leaning down for a quick kiss. Spencer whined when he pulled away. “It’s you.” He pressed his thumbs down against the delicate skin of throat underneath his hands. Spencer jerked, lips parting as sudden fear flooded his body. 

“Perfect. . .”

_“Hotch, I got the car! JJ and I are going in!”_

_“Morgan - .”_

_“We can’t wait and you know it! Reid needs our help!”_

_“What’s the address? We’re on our way.”_

His body arched, bucking and thrashing as he tried to flip the man off of him. His chest heaved, trying to pull in the air that his lungs were screaming for, but he couldn’t shake the man’s hold on him. Spencer’s eyes were wide and wild, hands scrambling at the cuffs that tied him to the headboard with frenetic movements. 

“Everything is fine,” the man cooed, leaning down and brushing a deceptively tender kiss against the lips that he had spent so much time pressed against. His hands tightened around the slender throat, knuckles beginning to lose color as he continued to choke the young man underneath him. “You’re just what I wanted.”

No air, no air, _no air . . ._

_“JJ, go around the back.”_

_“Be careful, Morgan.”_

The world was fading, blackness creeping into his vision as his struggles became weaker. Soft whispers continuously fell from the man on top of him, but they landed on deaf ears. The only sound that reached him was a loud rushing noise, his brain empty of everything except screaming panic. 

Everything had gone so wrong, so _very_ wrong. 

Spencer felt like his heart was stuttering in his chest, constricted and fluttering and slowing. Slowing. His hands stilled, the chain on the cuffs scraping down the metal slats of the headboard with a clang. A few last, weak kicks jolted his legs, but soon they too went limp. His body sagged against the mattress and his eyes slipped closed as the darkness devoured him. 

_“Prentiss, you and Rossi go around back. Morgan, I’m on my way in.”_

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to knock a few picture frames hanging in the room to the floor with a crash. The man’s head whipped around in shock, watching as two men outfitted in navy Kevlar vests stream into the room while other agents lingered in the doorway. 

“FBI! Freeze!”

\--

\--

THREE DAYS EARLIER

“We’re not lucky enough for this to be a vacation,” Morgan said, looking through the file he had in his hands. 

“Sadly, no,” Garcia confirmed, rising from her seat once Rossi had settled into his own with a mug of coffee. “If it was, you know I would be on the jet with you in a heartbeat.”  
“So what’s going on?” Rossi asks. Garcia scoops up the remote control from the tabletop and points it at the screen over her shoulder. 

“Honolulu, Hawaii,” she begins. “In the last two weeks they have found four bodies, all male, all manually strangled.”

Reid flicked through the papers that were spread out before him, scanning autopsy reports and police files. “Manual strangulation is an exceptionally personal way to kill.” 

“Could these victims have known the UNSUB?” Prentiss asked as she went through her own files. 

“A revenge killer?” Morgan questioned. 

“It’s possible, but highly unlikely,” Reid muttered. “There were ligature marks on all of the wrists of the victims . . .”

Garcia nodded. “From handcuffs.” She clicked a button on the remote and various photos of wrists with raw red wounds appeared on the screen. 

“So the UNSUB subdued them, handcuffed them, then strangled them,” Rossi summarized, taking in the pictures. 

Hotch flipped through the file in front of him. “The question is how he subdued them. There were no head wounds or other injuries to the bodies.”

“Maybe he threatened their loved ones?” Morgan suggested. 

“None of the victims were married or had children,” Garcia piped in.

“Parents? Or relatives?” JJ asked. 

Garcia shook her head. “All four were pretty lonely souls. No family on the islands and they’re mostly estranged from living relatives in the lower forty-eight.” 

“Tox screen?” Rossi questioned. 

“Clean,” Garcia responded, her bracelets clacking away on her wrists. “Except for alcohol.”

Reid looked up at the tech. “All of the victims had alcohol in their stomachs?”

“Indeed, Boy Genius,” the blonde answered. “But all different kinds, not the same drink for any of them.”

“So maybe the UNSUB picked them up in a bar?” Prentiss suggested. 

“Each of the victims were wrapped in a blanket and placed gently at the dump site,” JJ said, looking at more pictures as they cropped up on the monitor. 

“Could be signs of remorse,” Morgan said. 

“Probably,” Reid nodded. “They were placed in hidden but not isolated areas. He wanted them to be found.”

“Why?” Garcia asked, her eyes darting behind her glasses to take in each member of her team. 

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Hotch nodded and rose from his seat. “Garcia, start going through the victim’s lives. See if they had any contact with each other or any place that they had in common. Focus on bars that they might have all visited just before they were killed. Wheels up in thirty.”

\--

\--

By the time the team had landed in Hawaii and made their way to the police station, they all felt like they were about to collapse. Battling through the fatigue, the group downed coffee and energy shots and tried to hide their yawns as they were greeted by the lead detective.

“FBI?”

“That’s right,” Hotch said, reaching forward to shake hands with the petite woman in front of him. “I’m Agent Hotchner and this is my team. Agents Rossi, Morgan, Reid, Prentiss and Jereau.” The woman nodded at each of them as she shook Hotch’s hand. 

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I’m sorry that it couldn’t be under better circumstances. I’m Kris Yagi.”

“Thanks for having us here,” JJ said. 

Kris nodded. “Of course, your help will be invaluable, yeah? Why don’t I show you where you can set up?”

“Sounds good,” Hotch nodded. As they started forward, a young officer darted forward and placed a hand on Kris’ shoulder, his brown eyes wide and shiny as he whispered in his superior’s ear. The woman sighed and shook her head, turning to look at the agents gathered behind her. 

“Patrol found another body,” she said. 

“They’re sure that it’s a victim from the same UNSUB?” Reid questioned from the back of the group.

“Male in his mid to late 30’s, found in a semi-public area wrapped in a sheet,” Kris recited, glancing at the officer who nodded in agreement. 

“Reid, Morgan, go to the dump site. Rossi and Prentiss, go to the medical examiner, see if you can catch anything about the bodies that was missed. JJ and I will stay here and set up.”

\--

\--

“A college campus?” Reid asked when they arrived at the crime scene.

“The UNSUB’s bold,” Morgan commented, making his way over to the taped off area that was a flurry of activity. Reid followed after him, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks and eyes squinted against the bright Hawaiian sun, even with his sunglasses. “He could have easily been seen dropping off the body. A college campus is never quiet.” 

A detective broke away and approached the two agents as they made their way over to the scene. “You must be with the FBI,” he said, glancing between the two. Morgan shook his hand and Reid waved from his position slightly behind his teammate’s shoulder. 

“Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid,” the older of the two introduced. “What have we got here, detective?”

The detective led the way over to where the CSI unit was clustered around the body. “A student found a body on her way to a late morning class. She thought that it might have just been a homeless person and went to go give him one of the musubi that she had for breakfast -,”

“Musubi?” Morgan interrupted. 

“It’s a, uh, snack composed of rice, spam and seaweed. It’s quite popular here,” Reid explained. The detective shot the younger man an amused look but he nodded at Morgan in agreement. Morgan gave a fond shake of his head and gestured for the detective to finish his retelling of what had happened when the body had been discovered. 

“We called Detective Yagi as soon as we noticed the bruising on the neck,” he said, ducking under the crime scene tape and leading the agents over to the cold, still form on the grass. 

Reid asked for a pair of gloves from a passing tech, who gave him a pair without fuss before hustling on her way. He slipped on the latex and crouched next to the body, rolling the sheet down gently and exposing the face, neck and shoulders of a brunette man. Morgan and the detective stayed standing, watching as the youngest intently peered down at the body. “The M.E.?” Reid asked, looking up at the detective. 

“Stuck in traffic,” the detective said, crossing his arms over his chest. “She said not to wait for her.”

Morgan squatted next to the younger man as he carefully unfolded the sheet that was wrapped around the victim. “No defensive wounds,” Derek said, glancing at the body. The man was dressed in a pair of dark blue, nearly black jeans and a cream, button down shirt that was only half tucked in. The short sleeves showed off well-defined, lightly tanned arms. 

“Same ligature marks on the wrists that the other victims had,” Reid murmured, lifting up one of the man’s arms to inspect the hand. It was smooth, with small visible calluses on the palm underneath the fingers. The nails were all intact, neatly trimmed and free from any potential evidence. 

Reid placed the arm gently back down and shifted his gaze to the man’s face, honey eyes flickering rapidly. “Nothing seems unusual from the pictures that we’ve seen of the other victims,” he said. 

Morgan rose and placed his hands on his hips. “This guy is good,” he said, shaking his head. “No prints, no fibers, no evidence of any kind. Dumping a body in the morning on a college campus where anyone could stumble across him. He’s organized. Meticulous.” 

Reid stood as well and turned to look at the detective. “Do we have an ID on the victim yet?” 

“Yeah,” the detective said, nodding. “Alex Garret.” Reid gave the man a smile of thanks before the two walked away, Morgan pulling his phone from his pocket to call Garcia.

\--

\--

Rossi and Prentiss made their way into the building that housed the morgue, pulling their sunglasses from their eyes and hanging them at the front of their shirts. “Ever been to Honolulu before?” Emily asked, dark hair swinging as she turned to look at Rossi.

The man smiled and slipped his hands into his jeans as he walked down the hallway. “Never Honolulu,” he said. “But I did spend some time on Maui for my honeymoon.”

“Oh yeah?” Prentiss asked with a grin. “Which one?” Rossi leveled her with an unimpressed look and she smirked, a few chuckles escaping her lips as they entered the medical suite.  
A woman looked from her seat behind a desk. “Can I help you?” she asked curiously. 

“I’m Agent Rossi and this is Agent Prentiss, we’re with the FBI,” David said, pulling his badge from his coat and showing it to the woman, Emily doing the same next to him. “We need to meet with the medical examiner.”

“She’s gone out to the latest victim,” the woman said, glancing between the two agents. “But Joseph is here and he can help you. Go on back.”

“Thank you,” Prentiss smiled and followed Rossi into the back room. 

A man stood next to one of the examining tables, a small smile on his face. “Aloha,” he said, reaching forward for a handshake. “My name is Joseph. I’ve been working with Melanie on this case.”

“Thank you for seeing us,” Rossi said, nodding. 

Joseph nodded. “Of course, of course. But I don’t know what I can tell you that you haven’t already seen in the reports.”

“We were hoping to have a chance to see the bodies and maybe find something that might have been missed in the exam,” Emily explained. 

Joseph frowned heavily, the lines on his face deepening. “I’m afraid I can’t show you all of the bodies. The first two have already been cremated and sent back to their families.”

“We thought that all of the victims were estranged from their families?” Rossi questioned, lifting one eyebrow. 

The medical examiner nodded. “They all seem to be, yes. But we were told by the police that the first two victims were to be cremated and returned to their families. It must have been requested when they contacted the next of kin.”

“And the bodies of the other two victims?” Emily questioned. 

Joseph motioned for the two agents to follow them. “We do still have Daniel Matsumoto’s and Jay Sumaong’s bodies here,” he explained, pulling out the tables that held the bodies in question. “They haven’t been claimed by any relatives, so we will most likely have to cremate and bury them.” Emily and David shook their heads, stunned by the fact that some families would just discard their loved ones as if they had never existed. 

Prentiss and Rossi glanced between the bodies, brows furrowed in thought. “His victimology is all over the place,” Prentiss commented, shaking her head in confusion. “None of these men have the same skin tone or hair color.”

“The only thing that they really have in common in height,” Rossi muttered. “There has to be something that we’re missing.” He turned his gaze onto Joseph, who was hovering in the background. “There were no signs of sexual assault?” 

Joseph shook his head. “Nothing that we saw and there were no fluids. Just the ligature marks on the wrists from the handcuffs and the marks on the neck.”  
Prentiss looked at Rossi. “You’re thinking that there is a sexual component?” 

Her teammate nodded. “There has to be,” he insisted. “I just don’t see what else it is that we could be missing.”

“Well,” Emily said with a shrug, “I guess we should get back to the station and talk to Hotch. Maybe Garcia found something in their backgrounds.” 

“Thanks,” Rossi said, nodding to Joseph. 

“I’m sorry you couldn’t get any more information,” the medical examiner said. “But I’ll be sure to send the results from the latest victim as soon as they’re available.”

Prentiss gave a quick smile. “We appreciate that.”

\--

\--

Hotch glanced up as Morgan made his way into the room that had been set aside for them by the Honolulu Police Department. “What did you find out?” he asked.

“Not much,” Morgan answered, pulling out one of the chairs that surround the table and sitting down heavily. He glanced at the watch on his wrist and shook his head, a snort escaping him. “Hard to believe it’s not even six here yet,” he muttered. Hotch gave a slight smile in response. He was also feeling the strain of the long flight and severe time difference. 

Reid made his way into the room carrying two mugs, one which he set down in front of Morgan and the other he kept for himself. He gestured to Hotch’s cup, but the agent shook his head in refusal. “Has Garcia called?” the doctor asked, taking his own seat at the table. 

“Not yet,” Hotch replied. “Rossi and Prentiss are on their way back. JJ went with Detective Yagi to get some dinner for everyone.” He looked at the youngest member of his team. “Morgan said you didn’t find much at the dump site?” 

“There wasn’t anything remarkable about the body,” Reid said in between gulps of his coffee. “We’ve already called Garcia and asked her to look into the background of the latest victim.” 

“Sounds like your trip was a bust, too,” Prentiss said, breezing into the room. 

Morgan quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t find anything either?” he asked, incredulous. 

“It wasn’t a total bust,” Rossi corrected, sliding into a seat next to Hotch. “But it certainly didn’t yield as much as we were hoping for.” 

“What did you find out?” Hotch asked. 

“Rossi thinks that there is something sexual about the crimes that we haven’t noticed yet,” Prentiss explained, folding her hands on the table top. 

Morgan reached for the coffee that Reid had placed in front of him. “There wasn’t any evidence of assault in the medical reports,” he said, leaning back into his chair.

“I know,” Rossi said, shaking his head. His teammates could see on his face that he was frustrated, a thread of evidence that was just out of his reach. “And maybe I’m wrong, but I think that there is something that we’re missing.”

Reid’s eyebrows drew together as thoughts raced through his head. “It could be possible,” he said. “If this UNSUB is picking the victims individually, maybe there is a sexual component to these crimes.”

“They could be saying something to the UNSUB that triggers the attack,” Morgan offered. 

Hotch sighed heavily. “There isn’t much more that we can do before we get the latest autopsy report and the information from Garcia,” he said. 

“Which is why,” JJ called, making her way into the room with Detective Yagi. They were both laden down with plastic bags and drink holders, delicious smells spreading through the space and making the agents mouths water. “Right now, we’re going to eat dinner and then go to the hotel and sleep,” the blonde finished, setting the bags on the table. “We’re not going to be any use if we’re all dead on our feet.”

Prentiss grinned. “You’re such a mom,” she quipped. JJ rolled her eyes, even as a smile stole across her face. 

“JJ’s right,” Hotch said, watching as Kris began to unpack the bags. “Everyone eat and we’ll head back to the hotel. We’ll get a fresh start bright and early tomorrow morning.”

\--

\--

Garcia yawned widely, covering her mouth with her hand at the last minute as she tried to push the drowsiness from her body. She had to finish looking into the backgrounds of the five murdered victims for her team before she would be able to call it a night. Even though she knew that the rest of her team had retired to their hotel for some much needed sleep, she wanted them to have this information available as soon as they were awake so that they would be one step closer to finding the latest UNSUB and making their way back home.

She clacked away at her keyboard, fingers flying as her monitors flashed with the different programs that she was working with. There wasn’t much more that she had to go through and then she would be able to go home, crawl into her warm fluffy bed and sleep a few precious hours before returning to help her team. 

A chime from one of her screens caught her attention and she turned to look, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw the results that she had pulled up. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh!” Her fingers seemed to blur as she increased the speed of her typing, sending off everything to her team with a small sigh of relief. 

Maybe they would be able to come home without any injuries.

\--

\--

By seven the next morning, the BAU team was once again gathered around the table that had been set aside for them. Although they had all slept relatively well, they were still groggy and all clutched cups of coffee like it was their lifelines. Kris was also in the room, perched on a low bookshelf that was underneath a window.

“All the victims had been arrested for prostitution when they were younger,” Hotch said, looking at what Garcia had sent late last night. 

Prentiss looked over at Rossi, who was sandwiched between JJ and Morgan. “You were right,” she said. “There is a sexual component.” 

“Just not in the way that I was thinking,” Rossi nodded. 

“Maybe not,” Reid piped up, shifting in his seat. “Maybe it’s both.” 

Morgan glanced over at him. “What do you mean?” 

“The preliminary autopsy report came in this morning, along with a note from the medical examiner,” Reid explained. 

Kris shifted from her seat on top of the book shelf. “A note?” 

“Yeah,” Reid nodded, his hands moving as he spoke. “The ME noted that each of the victims all seemed to be wearing the same cologne.” 

“Cologne?” Rossi asked in disbelief. 

“It was strongest on this latest victim since the body was discovered so quickly, but it was noticed on all of them,” Reid continued. 

Morgan leaned his elbows against the table. “So why didn’t we notice it when we were there yesterday?” he asked the younger man. 

“We probably thought that the detective who was with us was wearing it,” Spencer answered, honey eyes locking with Morgan’s dark brown. 

“So what does it mean?” JJ asked. “All the victims buy the same cologne?”

Hotch shook his head. “That’s not likely,” he said.

“Body chemistry alters the way that certain scents smell when it hits someone’s skin,” Reid said. “It would be very rare that all five would wear the same fragrance.” 

Rossi sat quietly as his teammates bounced ideas off of each other, Detective Yagi chiming in with comments or questions a few times as well. He felt an idea tickling at the edges of his brain, if only he could bring it to fruition. “So why would the UNSUB be putting cologne on all of the victims?” JJ’s voice came and David felt as if he had been electrocuted. 

“He’s showering them,” the man said, everyone around him falling silent. He turned to look at Detective Yagi. “I need you to call the Medical Examiner and test the bodies for soap residue.”

“It would have degraded from the other two bodies already,” Prentiss interjected. 

Rossi turned to look at her. “Even if we can find a trace on the other two victims to confirm this idea it will be helpful,” he said. Kris scurried from the room to call the medical examiner and request the tests that Rossi had asked for. “Reid’s right. It isn’t just the history of prostitution; there’s another sexual element here.” 

“You think he’s using showers as a forensic counter measure for something?” Morgan questioned. “There weren’t any signs of sexual assault on the autopsies, so what’s this guy hiding?”

“Maybe he’s showering them as another sign of remorse,” Hotch said. “He’s already wrapped the victims in sheets and there isn’t any other damage on the bodies besides the marks from the handcuffs and the strangulation. He obviously cares about these men that he’s killing.” 

Morgan reached for his phone as it began to ring. “You’re on speaker, Baby Girl,” he answered, hitting the button so that Garcia’s voice could be heard by the rest of the team. 

“I’ve heard back from all of the parents,” the tech’s voice said, a sad tone underlying her words. 

“What do you have for us?” Hotch asked, picking up the pen that was resting in front of him. 

A heavy sigh came over the line. “All of the victims came out to their families a few months before they were picked up and charged for prostitution,” she said. They could hear the squeak of her chair over the line and the tapping of her fingers against the keys of her keyboard. 

“ _All_ of them?” Emily stressed, brows furrowed. Reid swallowed heavily, his eyes flicking over to Morgan for a split second before shifting away. 

“Every single one,” Garcia confirmed. “How would the UNSUB know?” 

“Who do you spill your heart out to about your problems?” JJ questioned, looking around at her team.

“Friends and relatives,” Hotch started. 

“Significant others,” Prentiss continued. 

“Therapists,” Reid contributed. 

“Pets,” Garcia called out from the speaker. The team smirked lightly, but didn’t say anything to contradict her statement. 

“Bartenders,” Morgan said. 

Rossi sat up straighter in his seat. “Garcia, wasn’t there a bar that all of the victims went to?” he asked.

“The Wooden Shack,” Reid answered. 

“Two points for the Junior G-Man,” Garcia replied. “The Wooden Shack is a bar owned by married couple Mary Anne and Ralph Thompson. It looks like they moved to Honolulu from Colorado in 2002 and opened up the bar in July of that year. Oh,” she said, typing away. “It looks like they’ve recently started an LGBT night every Thursday. Which, as you crime fighters all know, is tonight.” 

Hotch rose from his seat, the others following his lead. “Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to head over there after we update the officers.”

\--

\--

Reid stood in front of the board that all of the case information was pinned to, one hand resting against his mouth as he stared at everything laid out in front of him. Morgan and Prentiss had gone to The Wooden Shack and interviewed the owners as well as the staff and it seemed that one of the bartenders, Will Sangers, was their UNSUB. Despite presenting the profile of the man to the police later in the day, something was still bothering the young genius. All of the pieces didn’t seem to fit together and he was going to figure out why.

He spun around and scrambled for a piece of blank paper on the table behind him, grasping for a stray pen and jotting down a quick note to his coworkers. He knew that they were going to be furious when they discovered where he had gone, but that wasn’t his main concern. The issue most pressing to him was the fact that it would only be a few more hours before another body turned up. He was sure of it. Just as sure of the fact that he could prevent it from happening. 

After stopping in the room that the team had been given in the station to adjust some things, he grabbed his jacket and headed out of the station.

\--

\--

Morgan frowned when he entered the police station and noticed that Reid was missing. “What’s wrong?” Prentiss asked, stopping beside him. The team was still sporting their Kevlar vests, as were several officers that had accompanied them on picking up Will Sangers. The man had come quietly, a confused and slightly frightened expression covering his face as Detective Yagi took him into one of the interrogation rooms.

“Reid’s not here,” Derek answered. 

Prentiss glanced around and then nodded in agreement. “Huh,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe he just went to the bathroom.” 

Morgan gave a slight nod and then followed the woman over to get some coffee. Hotch and Rossi were talking about a strategy on how to question Sangers and JJ was making calls about a press conference. The minutes passed with Prentiss and Morgan talking to each other with the active bustling of the police station an accompanying soundtrack. The two agents made their way into the room that they had spent most of their stay in, sitting down at the table and waiting for the rest of their team to join them. Morgan glanced to the chair that Reid’s bag was innocently sitting in, the leather satchel looking rumpled as if the man had gone through it quickly. 

JJ made her way into the room, sighing heavily and sinking down into one of the empty seats. “Everything okay?” Prentiss asked, looking at her friend worriedly. 

The blonde smiled tiredly and placed her elbow on the arm of the chair, resting her cheek on her propped hand. “Everything’s okay,” she reassured Emily. “Just . . . dealing with the press isn’t always a walk in the park.” Morgan snorted as he took a sip of coffee, knowing that the woman was downplaying the true hell the press could be. “Especially on an empty stomach.”

“I hear that,” Prentiss agreed, nodding. “Station house coffee can only go so far.” 

“I was thinking of going for actual coffee and some food,” JJ said, glancing between the two other agents at the table. “There’s a 24 hour coffee and pancake house that I saw a couple of streets down.” 

Morgan grinned. “Breakfast for dinner. I love the sound of that.” 

Prentiss was smiling as well. “I wonder what Hotch and Rossi will think of it.”

“Mom and Dad don’t have a choice,” Morgan said. “They have to eat as much as the rest of us. And right now, breakfast is the best option.” 

“It should be quick,” JJ corrected. “And they have coffee. But I could always find something else?” 

“No way,” Morgan said, shaking his head. “You said pancakes. It’s a done deal.” Prentiss shook her head in amusement and JJ was smiling as she stood from her chair. 

“I’ll go see if Rossi and Hotch have gotten anywhere with Sangers and ask them what they want. Have either of you seen Reid?” the woman asked. 

“No, we haven’t seen him since we got back,” Emily answered, brows lowering. 

JJ frowned. “You haven’t?” 

“We thought maybe he was in the bathroom,” Prentiss answered, glancing at Morgan, who’s grip tightened on his coffee cup as a sudden feeling of unease flooded his body and twisted his stomach. 

“Maybe he stepped out for coffee himself,” the blonde agent said, pulling her phone from her pocket. “I’ll just give him a call to make sure that I don’t get anything we don’t need.” She hit one of the numbers on her phone and brought it up, the ringing echoing in her ear as Reid’s bag began to buzz. The three coworkers stared at the item for a few tense seconds before Morgan pushed himself out of his chair and over to the bag, flipping it open and staring down into the depths. 

Reaching inside, he pulled out the phone and dropped it on the table. JJ lowered the cell from her ear and ended the call, the room ringing with the sudden echoing silence as the vibrations stopped. “He left his phone?” Prentiss asked, confused. 

Morgan pulled out two other items from the bag, a dark cloud falling across his face as he laid Reid’s credentials on the table, as well as the revolver that was tucked into its holster. “We need to talk to Hotch,” Derek rumbled. “Now.”

\--

\--

The Wooden Shack was nothing like the name implied. It wasn’t a small, dilapidated building near the beach with a thatched roof and a tiny interior. It was situated in a large building on a popular tourist street and was more like a club than a bar. The inside of the establishment was a mix of stereotypical ideas about Hawaii and a “hip” club atmosphere. A large, square bar dominated the center of the room, with the dance floor taking up the area around it and leading out to tall round tables that dotted the fringes of the room.  
Reid swallowed anxiously as he stepped inside, wiping his hands on his slacks. At least the bouncer had been nice; when he’d seen Spencer’s out of state driver’s license, he had given him a vigorous hand shake and directed him to the bar, where he was eligible for a free drink. The agent made his way across the dance floor, scooting around the grinding bodies and grasping hands to step up to the bar.

There were four different bartenders working in the carved out area, moving around each other in perfect rhythm to not get in someone else’s way. Although all of them were dressed in black, they all sported a different style in the articles of clothing that they were wearing. One of the bartenders glanced over and nodded in acknowledgement, so Spencer waited patiently while he finished up with his current customer. 

“Hey there,” the employee said, slipping around one of his coworkers who was darting around the workspace before sidling up to Reid. “What can I get for you, cutie?” The blush that stole across Spencer’s face had the bartender cooing, eyes going soft in attraction. “First time here?” he continued. 

“Uh, yeah,” Reid said, licking his lips. “The uh, bouncer told me that I could get a free drink?” 

“Out of towner then,” the man said, grinning widely. He plunked a heavy glass filled with ice onto the bar and began to pull various bottles from underneath the counter. “Where you here from?” 

Reid watched him nervously as the bartender liberally poured the different types of alcohol into the glass. “I’m from Washington D.C.” 

“Ahh,” the bartender nodded, returning the bottles to their proper places and reaching for some maraschino cherries skewered on a plastic stick. “Came here for some warm weather?” He leered. “And some warmer company?” Reid spluttered at the blatant come on and the other man laughed warmly, pushing the drink over to the agent. “You’re adorable,” he teased, dragging a single finger down Reid’s nose gently. “Everyone here will eat you up.” 

“Thanks for the drink,” Reid said uncertainly, grasping the glass tightly. The bartender grinned and winked. 

“Let me know if you want another. The next one will be on me,” he flirted before making his way down the bar to help another customer. Reid turned and took in the people that were surrounding him. The area wasn’t packed yet, but it was still relatively early in the night. There was still time for him to lure the UNSUB out.

\--

\--

_Following a hunch. Will be back later. -SR_

The note crumpled in Morgan’s fist, his body nearly vibrating with anger. He couldn’t believe that Reid had gone off alone with only a vague note, without any notification to his team. Hotch was standing in front of the evidence board with his arms crossed over his chest and frowning so severely it almost seemed as if he would never smile again. JJ and Emily were huddled together, Prentiss rubbing the blonde’s back soothingly as she tried to calm her friend down. Rossi was staring down at Reid’s credentials as if they held the answer to everything, his face conflicted. The entire team was on edge, unsure of what to do and well aware of the trouble that Reid usually found himself in.

The officers that were still on duty looked warily over at the brooding FBI agents, uneasy with the amount of tension that was surrounding the group. Detective Yagi was fluttering around helplessly, just as lost as those around her. 

“I think I might kill him myself this time,” Morgan said darkly, slamming the note onto the table. “What the hell did he think he was doing?!”

“You won’t kill him,” Rossi interjected. “But don’t think that the kid’s going to get off light when he gets back.” 

“Absolutely not,” Hotch agreed, his voice dark. “He’ll be lucky if I don’t suspend him.” 

“Then let’s find him,” Prentiss cut in. “Does anyone have any idea about what this hunch he had could have been?” 

Morgan shook his head. “He didn’t say anything to me,” he grunted. 

“I doubt he would have told anyone,” Rossi said. 

“We could have helped him,” JJ said, her voice wavering. 

“We need to stay calm,” Hotch stated, locking eyes with each member of his team. “Panicking isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Hotch is right,” Rossi said, tossing Reid’s credentials onto the table. The picture of a younger Spencer stared up at them and made everyone itch to find their wayward agent. “We’ll start at the beginning. What did we miss?”

\--

\--

Reid swayed slightly with the music that was thumping through the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor and reverberating in his body. He was still nursing the drink that the bartender had fixed up for him, the sweet taste lingering on his tongue, but the drink was strong; he wasn’t even half way through it and already he was feeling loose and relaxed.

“Having a good time?” Reid watched as the bouncer that had greeted him at the door slid into the chair across the table from him and set his beer down on the table. “Spencer, right?” 

“Yeah, good memory,” the agent grinned, taking a sip of his own drink. 

The bouncer smiled with perfectly white and straight teeth in between a pair of full lips. His hair was oddly coifed in a messy style, but it framed his face and brought attention to his handsome features. He took a quick swig from the bottle that he had brought with him. “Well,” he said, his voice smooth, “It would be hard to forget someone as handsome as you.”

Reid blinked. “Oh,” he uttered. “Uhh . . .”

The man laughed kindly, eyes shining in amusement. “Sorry, I guess that was a bit forward,” he said. He reached his hand out and Reid glanced at it before grasping it. “My name’s Elliot.” He shifted in his chair, his knee smacking into the support of the table and sending their drinks rattling across the top. He swore and reached for his beer and Spencer scrambled for his glass, but some of the alcohol spilled for both men. Spencer shook his hand of excess liquid, licking off the rest from his fingers even as Elliot hurried to the bar for a towel. 

“Thanks,” Spencer said when Elliot reappeared and mopped up the drink that had been spilt. 

“’Course,” Elliot said with a self-deprecating laugh. “It was my fault anyway. Do you want a fresh drink? Yours is looking pretty watered down.” 

“Water would be good,” Reid answered, causing the bouncer to chuckle. 

“One water coming right up.” 

Elliot returned quickly and set a sealed water bottle in front of Reid, slipping back into his chair with smooth, easy movements. Reid gave a grateful smile, cracked the top off and drank deeply. “So,” the other man asked once Spencer had twisted the cap back onto the bottle. “What brings you to Hawaii?”

\--

\--

“The bartender is the only solid lead that we have,” Prentiss said, looking at a picture of the man that was still sitting in one of the interrogation rooms.

“Maybe it’s _too_ solid,” Rossi stated, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “A bartender that happened to be working on all of the nights that the victims were killed, lives at home by himself so he doesn’t have an alibi, but willingly comes in to the station to be questioned by the FBI?” 

“You think he’s being set up,” Hotch said, glancing at Rossi. Dave nodded. 

“Reid knew,” JJ said. “He knew that Sangers wasn’t the UNSUB and that the danger was still out there.”

Prentiss shook her head, eyes wide. “He’s using himself as bait.” Morgan barely bit back the snarl that was trying to claw its way out of his mouth. When he got his hands on Reid it was not going to be pretty. 

“The UNSUB has to be someone who works with Sangers,” Rossi explained, watching at Aaron pulled out his phone. “It’s the only way that he would know his schedule and the bar is the perfect hunting ground.” 

“What can I do for you, my favorite boss in the whole wide world?” Garcia’s voice asked from the speaker on Hotch’s phone. 

“Garcia, I need you to look up every employee that The Wooden Shack has,” Hotch answered. 

“What’s going on?” the tech answered, even as she clicked away back in Quantico. “I thought you had someone?” 

“We got the wrong guy, Baby Girl,” Morgan said, running a hand anxiously over his head, his palm rasping across the skin. 

“I’ll need a few hours to compile all of the information -,”

“We need the information _now_ Garcia,” Hotch snapped. 

The other line became silent for a moment before Penelope’s tremulous voice came over the line. “What’s happened?” she asked, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.  
“Just stay calm Penelope and go through the records,” Prentiss said soothingly. 

“No! No, no tell me what’s going on,” Penelope demanded, even as the typing started up again, even more furious than it had been before. “How far back am I going?” 

“Don’t go back any further than three years,” Rossi said. “Sangers has only been working there for that long.” 

“Fine, I’ve got the records,” Penelope said. “I need more information to narrow it down. And tell me what’s going on.”

\--

\--

Reid’s head was floating. He had gone to the bar and gotten another drink from the flirty bartender, as well as a second beer for Elliot. The two continued to talk as time drifted by, Spencer’s face lighting up with laughter as Elliot charmed him. The agent knew that he should be working, but every time he tried to walk away from the bouncer, Elliot would touch his wrist and say, “What’s the rush? Stay a bit longer.” And Reid would settle himself back in his seat and continue their conversation.

Elliot’s smile seemed to widen even more as a new song started playing throughout the club, a cheer going out among the patrons who were moving on the floor. “I haven’t heard this song in a long time,” he laughed. “It used to be my favorite. Would you like to dance?” He held out a hand to Reid, whose face reddened even more than it already was from the alcohol. 

“I don’t dance,” Reid stuttered slightly, shaking his head. Elliot stood from his chair and grasped Reid’s hand, tugging on it gently to draw the lanky man from his seat. 

“We’re going to dance,” Elliot said with a smile, drawing a protesting Spencer out onto the floor. “Don’t worry,” the bouncer said, placing Reid’s arms around his neck and his own hands on the agent’s hips. “I won’t let you go.”

\--

\--

The door to the interrogation room slammed open and Will Sangers jumped, startled. He had been sitting quietly for quite awhile, only the sound of the wind blowing outside keeping him company. One of the agents from his earlier questioning, Hotchner, strode into the room along with an agent that he had not met before. This man was smoldering with anger, his eyebrows drawn down tight and his lips a thin line on his face.

“Tell us about Elliot Marks,” Hotchner demanded, laying a photo of the man on the table. 

Will scrunched his nose in dislike. “Why are you asking about him?” 

The unknown agent slammed both of his hands down onto the table, causing Will to jump again and stare up at him with large, green eyes. “We don’t have time for games,” he snarled. “Tell us about Marks! Now!”

“Morgan,” Hotch barked, his own mouth an angry slash. Morgan pushed away from the table and made his way over to the corner of the room, crossing his arms over his chest and staring angrily at the man handcuffed to the table. 

Hotch stared at his agent for a minute before turning his attention back to Will. “What can you tell us about Elliot Marks?”

“I dunno why you’re asking about him,” Will said, shrugging. “He works as a bouncer at The Shack sometimes, but he’s not a full time employee. He’s a real piece of work.”

“What about your relationship with him?” Hotch asked calmly, his own arms folding over his chest, the material of his suit whispering at the action. 

Will snorted. “What relationship? He hates me. And the feeling’s mutual.”

“Why does he hate you?” Hotch questioned. 

Will shrugged again. “You’ll have to ask him,” he said. “He hated me from the first time he set foot at The Shack.” Hotch cut his eyes over to Morgan, their eyes meeting before Morgan quickly strode from the room, the door falling shut heavily behind him.

\--

\--

The flirty bartender grinned as he watched Reid collapse against the bar in a fit of giggles, Elliot hovering behind him. “Well, well, looks like his fun side finally decided to show up.”

“I’m thinking a bit too much,” Elliot said with a slight laugh. “He’s kind of a lightweight. Did I leave my keys back there?” 

“Sure did.” The bartender headed over to the register and reached for the shelf underneath it, pulling out a jangling set of keys that he handed over to the bouncer. The man reached for the key ring while tugging gently on Reid, pulling him into his chest and wrapping an arm tightly around his waist.

“I’m going to take him back to his hotel,” Elliot said. 

The bartender pouted jokingly. “You always get the good looking ones. Can’t you ever leave one for me?”

Elliot grinned. “Maybe if you weren’t stuck behind that bar you’d get to play more.” His friend scoffed and turned away, Elliot laughing as he began to haul Reid out of the club and towards his car. 

“What’s going on?” Reid asked, looking at the man with slightly bleary eyes. His brain was fuzzy and his skin was prickling. 

“You’re coming home with me,” Elliot answered, shoving his key into the lock on the passenger side to disengage the lock. 

Reid shook his head. “I shouldn’t. I should get back -,” 

“You are,” Elliot insisted as he opened the door. He adjusted Reid so that the two were pressed against each other, chests flush and hips nestled together. Elliot’s eyes flicked over Spencer’s face, taking in his handsome features and brushing a stray curl away from his cheek. Leaning forward, he brushed a soft kiss against Reid’s slightly chapped lips. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered in between the light presses of their lips. A quiet sound escaped Spencer as he leaned into the mouth that was against his, resting his hands against Elliot’s chest.

The night air around them was filled with the sounds of traffic and far off laughter. Elliot pulled away after a few minutes and tickled the tips of his fingers down Reid’s cheek. “You want me,” he stated, trailing the digits against Spencer’s slightly swollen mouth. 

Reid nodded. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. 

Elliot smiled. “I know,” he responded. “Let’s go.”

\--

\--

The doors of the SUV’s slammed shut, the bouncer at the door staring in stunned silence as a hoard of FBI agents and police officers, outfitted in Kevlar, approached him. “Can I help you?” he stammered.

“Where’s Elliot Marks?” Hotch asked, leading the pack. 

“His shift ended a couple of hours ago,” the bouncer answered. He gestured towards the door. “The last time I saw him he was inside.” Hotch turned to the officers, ordering them to go with JJ around back and cover all possible exits. Prentiss and Rossi nodded when they were told to stay out front, just in case Marks was still inside and tried to run out. Aaron turned to look at Morgan, who gave a sharp nod and the two agents headed inside. 

The bar patrons gave them strange and uneasy looks as they look in the vests that they were sporting and the guns strapped to their hips. The two agents scanned the darkened area, looking for either Reid or the UNSUB. “I’m not seeing them, Hotch,” Morgan said over the music. 

“Let’s talk to the bartenders. Maybe one of them served Reid,” Hotch suggested and the two made their way easily through the crowd, who was giving them a wide berth. 

When one of the bartenders caught sight of them, she froze, a frown crossing her face and her body tensing. “I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Morgan, we’re from the FBI,” Hotch said, showing her his badge. 

“What can I do for you?” she asked. Her eyes were heavily lined with kohl and her lips a shiny pink. 

“Where’s Elliot Marks?” Morgan demanded. 

The girl shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for awhile, but Nick was waiting on him tonight,” she responded. Turning, she snagged one of her coworkers that was zipping by, a cloth in hand for a spill that was a little way down the bar. “Hey, Nick. These guys are from the FBI. They want to know where Elliot is.”

Nick stepped up to the bar next to the young woman. “He’s taking a guy back to his hotel,” he said. Hotch tensed and Morgan bit back the swear word that nearly slipped from his lips. His boss reached into his pocket and pulled out Reid’s credentials, showing Nick the picture. 

“Is this the guy?” he asked urgently. 

The bartender pulled out his key ring and shone a small flashlight onto the item in Hotch’s hand. He squinted at the picture for a moment before he nodded. “He’s a little older now than in the picture, but that’s him. That guy was a Fed? Wow. I never would have guessed.” Morgan didn’t bother to stifle the curse this time and he stomped away from the bar, heading outside. Nick stared worriedly after him. “Is he okay?”

Hotch ignored the question. “When did Marks leave?” 

“A couple of minutes ago,” Nick said, putting his keys back in his pocket as Hotch slipped Reid’s credentials back into his suit jacket. 

“Does he have his own car?” the agent asked. 

Nick nodded. “Yeah. An older car. Black Toyota, I think. It has some waves painted on the sides. They’re pretty realistic, too. I’ve been trying to get him to do the same thing on my car, but -.”

“Thank you,” Hotch interrupted before hurrying away. Outside, he saw Morgan leaning his back against the building with his eyes clenched shut and his hands in fists at his side. Prentiss and Rossi were standing uneasily near the street, their anxiety palpable in the air. JJ was making her way back towards the front of the building with the officers. 

Hotch pulled his phone from his pocket as he began to explain to his team what the bartender had just told him. “Marks has a car. A black Toyota with waves painted on the sides.”

“Aaron,” Dave interjected, his voice tense. Hotch glanced up from his phone. Emily had closed her eyes as if she was in pain and Rossi’s face was pinched. “That car just drove by a couple of minutes ago.” 

_“What?!”_ Morgan nearly roared, throwing himself away from his resting place. “Reid was right here -?!”

“Which way did it go?” Hotch snapped. Rossi quickly informed him and Hotch looked at JJ, who had just stepped up to the group. “JJ, go with Morgan. Rossi, Prentiss, with me. Let’s go.”

\--

\--

Hot breath mingled together as they kissed, lips pressed roughly against each other and sliding slickly together.

_“I had them, but I’ve lost sight of them! I don’t know which way they went!”_

Muffled whimpers escaped the taller of the two, short gasps of air echoing in the otherwise silent room when their lips broke contact for brief seconds. 

_“What do you mean you’ve lost them!? You were supposed to be keeping a close eye on them!”_

The two struggled out of their clothing; shirts lifted off and discarded carelessly, while shoes and pants lay in puddles on the floor as the two stumbled their way into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them.

_“Don’t you think I know that?! If we don’t find the car - !”_

_“DON’T think like that! We’ll find it!”_

_“JJ . . .”_

_“We WILL. We have to . . .”_

_“I see them!”_

_“Talk to us, Garcia. Where are we going?”_

_“Take the next left!”_

They tumbled onto the bed, springs groaning in protest at the sudden weight thrown upon it. Desperate hands ran over firm muscles underneath soft skin, fingernails dragging down white flesh and leaving behind harsh, red lines. 

_“They’re been out of sight for too long.”_

_“I’ve got them, don’t panic.”_

_“Garcia - ,”_

_“Morgan, I’ve GOT them! You have to stay calm because if you don’t stay calm I won’t stay calm and I need to be calm right now.”_

_“Focus! Which way are they going now, Garcia?”_

_“Yes, yeah. You’re right, Hotch. Sorry. Keep going straight.”_

He pulled away from the taller one, which caused more of those delectable whimpers to escape kiss swollen lips. “Shh,” he cooed, straddling the lithe body underneath him. Huge eyes stared up at him, the hazel irises completely swallowed by the pupils. He smiled slowly, reaching out and trailing gentle fingertips across a flushed cheek for a brief moment, before reaching towards the bedside table and pulling open the drawer. 

Reaching inside, he pulled out a pair of sturdy, silver handcuffs. The jangling sound they made mixed with the heavy breathing of his lover in a tantalizing soundtrack. “I think you’d look beautiful in these, don’t you, Spencer?” 

_“Baby Girl, we’re blind here, we need you.”_

_“I know, I know, but . . . they’ve turned into a residential area. There aren’t any stoplights for me to hack into the cameras to follow them with.”_

_“Give us the neighborhood, Garcia.”_

As soon as the cuffs clicked onto Spencer’s wrists, their lips reattached. Their kisses were frantic as they devoured each other and their bodies rocked together, arousal wrapped tightly around them. 

His hands slid up Spencer’s lightly defined chest, smooth palms gliding across flushed skin. He pulled his lips away with a wet smack, watching as the man at his mercy moaned at the teasing touch and tilted his head back, beautiful neck arched in pleasure. 

“So gorgeous,” he whispered, smoothing his fingers across the Adam’s apple that was on display. “I think you may be perfect. The one that I’ve been searching for all this time.” His hands cupped the back of his lover’s head, sliding through the thick, soft curls before gliding down to cradle his neck. 

Spencer raised his head, his eyes locking with the dark blue gaze of the man on top of him. Straight, white teeth shone between red lips as he smiled down at the man he was touching. “Yes,” he said, leaning down for a quick kiss. Spencer whined when he pulled away. “It’s you.” He pressed his thumbs down against the delicate skin of throat underneath his hands. Spencer jerked, lips parting as sudden fear flooded his body. 

“Perfect. . .”

_“Hotch, I got the car! JJ and I are going in!”_

_“Morgan - .”_

_“We can’t wait and you know it! Reid needs our help!”_

_“What’s the address? We’re on our way.”_

His body arched, bucking and thrashing as he tried to flip the man off of him. His chest heaved, trying to pull in the air that his lungs were screaming for, but he couldn’t shake the man’s hold on him. Spencer’s eyes were wide and wild, hands scrambling at the cuffs that tied him to the headboard with frenetic movements. 

“Everything is fine,” the man cooed, leaning down and brushing a deceptively tender kiss against the lips that he had spent so much time pressed against. His hands tightened around the slender throat, knuckles beginning to lose color as he continued to choke the young man underneath him. “You’re just what I wanted.”

No air, no air, _no air . . ._

_“JJ, go around the back.”_

_“Be careful, Morgan.”_

The world was fading, blackness creeping into his vision as his struggles became weaker. Soft whispers continuously fell from the man on top of him, but they landed on deaf ears. The only sound that reached him was a loud rushing noise, his brain empty of everything except screaming panic. 

Everything had gone so wrong, so _very_ wrong. 

Spencer felt like his heart was stuttering in his chest, constricted and fluttering and slowing. Slowing. His hands stilled, the chain on the cuffs scraping down the metal slats of the headboard with a clang. A few last, weak kicks jolted his legs, but soon they too went limp. His body sagged against the mattress and his eyes slipped closed as the darkness devoured him. 

_“Prentiss, you and Rossi go around back. Morgan, I’m on my way in.”_

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to knock a few picture frames hanging in the room to the floor with a crash. The man’s head whipped around in shock, watching as two men outfitted in navy Kevlar vests stream into the room while other agents lingered in the doorway. 

“FBI! Freeze!”

\--

\--

The lights from the emergency services vehicles lit up the neighborhood that Elliot Marks lived in. Nosey neighbors had poured out of their houses, watching in morbid curiosity as Elliot was hauled out of his house in handcuffs, his head lowered as the officers marched him over to a waiting cop car. But it was the body on a stretcher being pushed out of the house that was even more of an interest to the onlookers than the man that was being arrested.

Agent Hotchner stepped out of the house and onto the porch after the stretcher, his face a turbulent mix of anger, terror and sadness. Rossi stepped up behind him, resting a strong hand on one of his friend’s shoulders. The two watched as the paramedics loaded the gurney into the back of the ambulance, Reid’s pale face covered with an oxygen mask a terrible vision burned into their minds. 

“He’s alive, Aaron,” Rossi said gently, his eyes tracking Morgan as the agent tried to haul himself into the ambulance after the gurney. A paramedic grabbed his arm and shook her head, her mouth moving around soothing words as she tried to wipe the heavy frown from the man’s face. 

“I know,” Hotch said gruffly, flicking his gaze over to his friend before returning it to Morgan. “And I can’t put into words how grateful I am that we got here in time. But . . .”

“They’ll work it out,” Rossi soothed as Morgan pushed the paramedic’s hand away with a glare and clambered into the ambulance. “It’s not our place to get involved.” Hotch opened his mouth to retort, but David continued on. “No matter how much we want to help.” Aaron was still for a few tense moments before he gave a sharp nod in agreement and made his way down the small set of steps that led to the front door. 

Prentiss and JJ were lingering in the street, the blonde’s eyes glued to the ambulance as it pulled away towards the hospital. Emily looked over to the two men as they walked towards them. “Prentiss, JJ, go to the hospital,” Hotch said, stopping in front of the two women. “Dave and I will go to the station and finish everything up.”

“Are you sure?” Emily asked. 

Hotch nodded. “Keep us informed about Reid’s condition. We’ll be there as soon as we’ve gotten everything settled.” 

“And make sure you call Garcia,” Rossi interjected. “Morgan’s not going to be in a place to do it.”

“You got it,” Prentiss said, already pulling out her phone. “I’ll call you when I know something.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule a departure for the jet when I know what the doctors want to do with Spence,” JJ added, her entire body rigid with anxiety. Hotch nodded in agreement and watched as his two agents climbed into one of the black SUV’s and left for the hospital.

Rossi gave a small sigh, the sound relieved instead of worried. “Everything will work out,” he reassured, eyes scanning the area and all the neighbors that were peering curiously at the remaining vehicles in the street. “Let’s go. The sooner we get to the station, the sooner I can be proven right.” Hotch glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips even as he tried to fight it. Rossi grinned and led the way over to the remaining car.

\--

\--

Morgan rose from the uncomfortable waiting room chair that he had been forced into when Emily and JJ appeared. “Anything?” the brunette asked.

“Nothing,” Morgan said, his voice tight with irritation. JJ slid into one of the seats and Prentiss settled in next to her. Morgan started to pace. “Where are Hotch and Rossi?” 

“At the station,” JJ answered. She was still worried, but seemed to be calming down now that Reid was in the care of the hospital staff. “They want us to keep them updated.” 

“I want _them_ to keep _us_ updated,” Morgan snapped. “I want to know everything that guy says.”

JJ looked over at Emily. “Would Hotch and Rossi still be the ones to interrogate Marks?”

“He assaulted an FBI agent,” Emily said, crossing her legs. “The case is federal now.” Her gaze flicked between the blonde and Derek. “It’s also personal.” 

Morgan came to a halt, covering his face with his hands. His shoulders were square and stiff, the muscles bunched tightly together. “I need to call Garcia,” he muttered, his voice muffled. 

“Already taken care of,” Prentiss said. “I told her we’ll update her when we update Hotch and Rossi.” Derek slid his hands over his head and down his neck, shooting his friends a grateful look as he did so. His eyebrows were pinched together tightly and his whole demeanor screamed worry. 

JJ patted the empty seat on her other side in a silent invitation. Morgan collapsed into it, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as the three hunkered down to wait for the doctor.

\--

\--

“Thank you,” Detective Yagi said, her face etched with gratitude as she stood in front of Rossi and Hotch. “We all really appreciate the work that you did here.”

“Of course,” Hotchner said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Thank you for being so welcoming. That doesn’t always happen.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Kris said, releasing Aaron’s hand and reaching for Dave’s. “I’m just sorry that one of your agents got caught in the crossfire.”

“He’s got a knack for getting himself into these types of situations,” Rossi said as the two shook. “We may have to keep him on a shorter leash for awhile.”

Kris gave a few amused chuckles. “It doesn’t look like your one agent will let him out of his sight anytime soon, yeah? Agent Morgan was a force to be reckoned with.” 

“He always is when it comes to Reid,” Hotch said dryly. Kris cocked an eyebrow and Rossi shook his head in amusement. 

“Those two have an interesting dynamic,” he explained. Kris grinned, but the expression fell from her face as she watched Marks being led to an interrogation room. “Why would he do something like this?” she asked quietly. 

Rossi and Hotch looked over their shoulders and at the back of the man that was being led away. “We’re going to find out,” Hotch answered darkly.

\--

\--

The three agents looked up as a doctor stepped into the waiting room that they were sitting in. Emily closed the magazine that she had listlessly been perusing and JJ sat up straight. Morgan was still hunched over his knees, but he raised his head to focus on the man that was in front of them. “Are you here for Spencer Reid?”

“Yes, how is he?” JJ questioned instantly, her hands clenching on the armrests of her chair. 

“He’s going to be fine,” the doctor assured the three, striding over to them. “There won’t be any permanent damage, but he will be quite sore for awhile. I’d like to keep him overnight for observation, but he’ll be free to go in the morning.” 

Prentiss gave a huge sigh of relief. “Good,” she said with a smile. “Good.”

“Is he awake?” Derek asked, his expression still tight. 

The doctor nodded. “He’s awake,” he confirmed. “I have the nurse taking some blood right now so that we can run some tests.”

“But I thought you said that he’s fine?” JJ asked, the tension seeping back into her small frame. 

The doctor tucked his hands into the pockets of the lab coat that he was wearing. “He _is_ fine,” the doctor reiterated. “Before Spencer arrived, I spoke to Agent Hotchner on the phone and he explained what has been going on. And I had a hunch.”

“I’m beginning to hate that word,” Derek muttered, Reid’s note flashing in front of his eyes. Prentiss nodded darkly beside him. 

The man in front of them continued. “From what Agent Hotchner described, I think that Spencer was drugged with scopolamine.”

“I’ve never heard of that before,” Emily said, glancing at her teammates who looked just as confused as she felt. 

“Most people haven’t,” the doctor said. “I only knew about it because a friend of mine in New York recently dealt with it. It’s a chemical that keeps people awake, but they’re unaware of what’s happening.” 

“So Spence might not even know what happened to him?” JJ questioned softly. 

“Probably not,” the doctor confirmed gently. “He’s going to need your support to get through this. It’s going to be a very confusing and emotional time for him.”

“Of course,” Prentiss said instantly. “He has all of us.” 

“Can we see him?” Derek asked anxiously. 

Light green eyes flicked back and forth between the three FBI agents in front of the doctor. He gave a slight sigh. “Five minutes,” he said. “He needs his rest.”

“Of course,” JJ agreed instantly. 

“I do think it would be best if one of you stayed with him overnight, though,” the doctor said as he made his way towards the hospital room Reid was settled in. “That way he’ll be calmer if he wakes up confused in the morning. 

“JJ - ,” Morgan started, but the blonde cut through his words. 

“You should stay with him,” the petite mother said, looking up at her friend. “He’d like that.” Morgan glanced from her to Prentiss, who gave him an encouraging smile, before he nodded his head in agreement. 

“Five minutes,” the doctor reiterated as he gestured for the three agents to enter a brightly lit hospital room. The nurse was just pressing a band-aid into the crease of Reid’s arm as they stepped inside, the youngest of their team glancing up at them with tired eyes. His slim wrists were swathed in white gauze and the bruises on his neck were vivid against his pale skin. Derek hid the shudder that tried to crawl up his spine at the sight. If only he had put things together faster, he could have gotten to Spencer before he had even left the club . . .

“Hey,” Spencer croaked, grimacing at the pain that it caused his throat. 

“Hey, Reid,” Derek said gently, easing over to the side of the bed. The nurse quirked an eyebrow as she gathered the supplies that she had been using, her eyes blatantly running over the agent’s frame with hungry eyes. JJ and Prentiss shared a look as they noticed the nurse’s interest, but Morgan only had eyes for the young man on the bed. 

The doctor cleared his throat pointedly at the nurse and she flushed, hurriedly packing away her things and scurrying from the room. The three crowded around the bed, looking at their youngest teammate with relief plain in their eyes. “Hey Spence,” JJ smiled. “How’re you feeling?” 

Spencer licked his lips before speaking. “Tired,” he answered. 

Emily huffed a light laugh. “That’s to be expected, when you go charging in by yourself all hero-like.” The injured agent blushed hotly and ducked his head as his friends laughed around him. “We just wanted to check on you, but you get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” JJ said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. Prentiss patted his shoulder and the two made their way out of the room, the doctor trailing after them.  
Spencer turned slightly confused but hopeful eyes onto Derek. “Morgan?” he rasped curiously. 

Morgan smiled at him, his eyes crinkling with the expression. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Pretty Boy,” he said. The older agent watched as Spencer slumped back onto the pillow of his hospital bed, a nearly silent, “Good,” escaping his lips as he finally relaxed. 

Derek’s face softened as he continued to gaze at his friend. “Get some sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

\--

\--

“This is definitely one for the history books,” Rossi quipped, settling into one of the plush leather seats on the jet. Hotch gave him an unimpressed look out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the paperwork that he was filling out. JJ and Prentiss stayed quiet from their positions across from the two men.

Morgan slid into the seat opposite of Reid, who was sitting silently away from the team. The genius was gazing out of one of the small windows, the clouds below white and thick in the clear sky. His eyes were shadowed and he was nervously rubbing his thumb against his index finger. 

“Reid,” Derek called quietly. The man didn’t turn to look at him, but Morgan knew that he had his attention. “Talk to me.” 

Spencer was quiet for a few minutes before he inhaled deeply, releasing the breath in an enormous exhale. “I don’t remember anything,” he whispered. “It all gets fuzzy after I left the precinct.” He finally looked over at Morgan, locking eyes with his friend. “I don’t like not knowing.”

“I know,” Morgan said. “I know you do. But it’s going to be okay.”

Reid shook his head slowly. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do,” Derek insisted, his entire demeanor firm as he locked gazes with the man sitting across from him. “I do know that it’s going to be okay. Because you’re strong and you won’t let this destroy you. And because the team is going to be here for you; we’re going to help you get through this.” His eyes softened, his fingers twitching on his knee as he fought the urge to reach out and take hold of his friend. “ _I’m_ going to help you get through this. I promise, Reid.” 

The younger man was silent for a few beats, the hum of the engines mixing with the rustling of Hotch’s papers and the gentle hum of Prentiss and JJ’s conversation. Finally, a shaky smile pulled at the corners of Spencer’s lips and he gave a slight nod. “I know,” he whispered. Morgan smiled, reaching out and knocking his ankle playfully against the taller man’s before settling back into the leather of the seat and turning his attention to the sky beyond the window. Reid watched him for a few moments, hazel eyes taking in the man’s handsome features and feeling the slight warmth from the leg near his, before he too turned his gaze back to the skies beyond the glass. 

The rest of the trip home was spent in comfortable silence.

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever Criminal Minds story and this is what my brain spits out? I don't even know what to think about myself right now. Anyway, I know there are a lot of unanswered questions, but that's what a second installment is for I suppose. Thank you for taking the time to read this, I really do appreciate it and I hope that there was something interesting about this. This is really the first time I've ever tried to write these beloved characters, so I'm still trying to get the hang of everyone, but I hope it wasn't too horrible. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are very much loved! See everyone next time.


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